


Comfort

by irismustang



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irismustang/pseuds/irismustang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane's miserable, Will's there to help. Basically just a bit of platonic snuggles. Can be read as Brandt/Jane or as Gen. Depends on what goggles you're wearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hiddencait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/gifts).



> Written for [this prompt](http://ghotocol-kink.livejournal.com/1494.html?thread=557526).  
> 

Certain he wouldn’t be seen, Will knelt down and set about picking the apartment lock, pleased that it took him so long to hear the click of the tumblers. He nudged the door open and carried a bag inside, toeing off his shoes the moment he crossed the threshold. He locked the door back and slipped through the quiet apartment to the bedroom.

There was a lump in the bed, buried beneath a pile of blankets and he smiled as he walked over. All of his attempts to be quiet seemed to be for naught as he caught sight of dark, fever-glazed eyes peering at him from within the cocoon.

“Did I wake you?” he asked softly, instantly apologetic. He placed the bag on the floor as he perched on the edge of the bed.

“Can’t sleep,” Jane whispered, voice rough and hoarse in a way that was painful for Will to even hear.

“Sorry.” He brushed her hair from her face, frowning at the heat emanating from her skin. “Brought you something.”

“Drugs?” She asked hopefully.

He chuckled and leaned down, kissing her forehead. “Drugs.”

“I love you,” she said with a heartfelt sincerity that was more commonly heard from a post-mission intoxicated Benji.

“Sit up,” he urged, turning back to the bag and rummaging around. “Take anything yet?”

”Not since Ethan was here,” she answered, unwrapping from the cocoon enough to prop herself on one elbow and free her other hand.

”That was at twelve. It’s six.”

”My hair hurts,” she countered, as if that explained everything. Sadly, it did. He knew that feeling.

“Okay, okay.” Will handed over the pills and then the water, wincing in sympathy at her struggle to wash them down. A lozenge was next and he nodded at the grateful smile she shot him.

He changed out of his suit and into lounge pants and a t-shirt and grabbed a book from the bag on his way to settle in beside her, sitting patiently as she squirmed her way into comfort.

He raised his other leg, propping the book on his thigh, and angled the lamp to give him the best light without shining it in her eyes. “Ready?”

“You don’t have to,” she whispered. “It’s silly.”

“Ready?” He asked again.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Will looked at the first page and paused. “I’m not doing sound effects. Or voices.”

“Okay.”

With that settled, he slid his free hand into her hair, gently smoothing out the tangles and started to read. “Once upon a time…”


End file.
